Dear Mom,
I play Bunco once a month with my cousins (your nieces) and your sisters and sister-in-law, and of course my two sisters. I love how my aunts are in their 70s and 80s and they get out and play. They’re always dressed up, putting us younger ones to shame—their hair styled and make up on, jewelry to match their outfits. Watching them I wonder how you’d fair—whether you’d be up to it—what you’d be like, not as a mother but as a person. I wonder whether I have any of your personality traits. No one has ever said, “Oh you act just like your mother.” Or “That’d be something Vera would do.”
When I do or say something, my girls with a bit of sarcasm will say, “Oh, now I know where I get that from.” And to be fair, sometimes they laugh and giggle, “I’m just like you.” But then they’ve had me a lot longer to rub off on.
Every now and then when I’m in bed, I’ll swing my arm over and prop my arm across my forehead. That’s something I remembered you did. I’d walk into your bedroom, wanting one last thing before going to sleep and you’d be lying on your bed with your right arm over your forehead. I always found that kind of odd, but as soon as I do it, I think of you.
Tonight is Bunco and you’ll be in my thoughts.
A group of ladies in the neighborhood used to play Bunco. I joined them only once and won a prize...for worst score. *sigh* Needless to say, that was my first & last Bunco night!
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